Monday, December 5, 2011

Phoning It In (More Old Poetry): Shaken

Since I didn't get rotten tomatoes thrown at me last Friday for posting the poem I wrote for my brother, and I'm super busy these days, I'll share another old poem.

Shaken

I cannot gauge the distance
Between St. Helens and Augusta
Not since the time
We were in both places at once
Kissing beneath her
Our every tremor seismic
And far-reaching
Where with god's sly eye she watched us
I can still feel the aftershocks
And you can hear my voice
You call me sweet love
You say you love to hear my voice
I tell you how to love me
How I love your hands
Moving over my body
Documenting the topography for past and future reference
Here and now we all wait
Everybody waits
I wait for you
I wait
Everybody waits